


Macchiatos and Shootouts

by edwardnashtons (freckledandspectacled), freckledandspectacled



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2019 [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Italian Mafia, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/edwardnashtons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Oswald falls head over heels for his barista, but there are things he cannot tell Edward for his own safety.





	Macchiatos and Shootouts

Oswald loved the atmosphere of this place. The smell of espresso, the local students hard at work with stacks of books piled high next to them, the way the rain seemed so much farther away once you were inside. He’d been coming to this shop on his breaks from prepping in Fish Mooney’s club. Oswald always felt on edge when he was there, in large part because he had good reason to be watching his back. Playing a mafioso wasn’t a low risk game by any means, but if he was lucky, there would be ample reward. He sipped his macchiato and met the gaze of the eye candy behind the counter. Maybe he just liked the guy because he was always in here, but Oswald couldn’t help teasing him every time he ordered.

It had all started when he walked in for his usual, only to find a new guy behind the counter, fiddling with the espresso maker and smiling nervously when he turned back to find Oswald waiting. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the guy had said, pushing his glasses back up his nose and brushing away the soft brown curls of his fringe. He was cute, and Oswald immediately wanted to mess with him.

“That might have been because your back was turned,” Oswald said, smirking. He laughed at that, smoothing down the front of his green apron. He was wearing a name tag which read, ‘Edward’.

“I suppose you’re right,” Edward said, fidgeting with his own fingers. “It certainly didn’t help. Sorry about that. Were you waiting long?”

“Not long enough,” Oswald said, leaning across the counter, “I was enjoying the view.”

The man’s jaw dropped, head swiveling as if to see whether anyone else had overheard as his face reddened, a heavy blush staining his cheeks. “I—you—”

“My usual is a macchiato, no sugar,” Oswald told him. “And my name is Oswald. You’ll want to remember it.”

“I should hardly think I’d forget it,” Edward had replied, darting off to make his order. He pressed it into Oswald’s hands, and Oswald stared up in confusion. 

“I still need to pay you,” he slowly explained, moving to put it back on the counter as Edward held out a hand to stop him.

“On the house,” he’d said. “Consider it an apology.”

“I really wasn’t waiting long—” Oswald began. Now he was feeling a little guilty for messing with the guy. Oswald could tell he was clearly a lovely person, even from the short interaction they’d had. 

“No, I’m sorry for turning around so soon,” Edward interrupted, winking. Oswald was stunned into silence, which in and of itself was shocking. He usually had a retort for everything. There was a subtle curve to the new guy’s lips that hadn’t been there before, a spark in his eye. Oh, but now Oswald was _intrigued_ by him. Beneath that shy and awkward exterior there was someone who offered a challenge for him, and he never could turn down a good opportunity. 

“Yes, well,” he stuttered, shocked to find his usual eloquence missing. He’d tested each of the baristas here and all of them had shied away. This was highly unusual. “Don’t do it again.”

He wanted to hit himself as he turned away, but a glance back revealed Edward smiling after him, leaning over the counter on his elbows with his hands cupping his face. Dammit, he was _adorable_.

The next time he’d entered, Edward had greeted him with—of all things—a riddle. “I can be a dark or light roast, but I’m not a chicken. I can be pressed, but I’m not a button. I can be brewed, but I’m not beer. What am I?”

“Is this… are you asking me a riddle?”

“Do you give up?”

“No! It’s obviously coffee,” Oswald answered, gesturing to the coffee shop around them. The context was a tad overstated.

“You’d be surprised how many people still don’t get it,” Edward said, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially. Oswald felt his collar begin to grow warmer. Oh, that wouldn’t do at all. 

“What do I get for solving it?” Oswald asked, voice low as he moved in closer. He watched Edward’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He was making him nervous, and it was _thrilling_ to watch. Generally, he needed a weapon in hand to bring that out in someone, given his stature. Yet Edward was reacting like that to his _flirtations_. Oswald could honestly say that he was the first person to do so, the first person not to laugh in his face at the attempt. 

“Your order on the house,” Edward replied, quickly scrambling away. Oswald wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He was lost in thought when Edward called his name, “Mr. Cobblepot?”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup from his hand. When their fingers brushed he shivered, actually _shivered_. It wasn’t until he was sitting by the window that it occurred to him he’d never told Edward his last name.

Many of his visits had gone similarly, though he insisted on stuffing dollars in the tip jar despite Edward insisting that his coffee was free when he solved a riddle. None of the following ones had been as easy, and he probably only got one a week for the rest of the month. Even so, Edward was always delighted that he tried. 

“Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will let us always will meet. What am I?”

“Poker?” Oswald tried. Edward smiled fondly at him.

“Death, but, close enough.” It was odd, how much he enjoyed being wrong. And how much he enjoyed getting to know Edward through his riddles. A month after the first time he’d seen him, Oswald went in for his usual and Edward was nowhere to be found. Isabelle was covering his shift today, apparently. He’d liked her better when her hair was red, the blonde just didn’t look good. She’d also had a serious personality change.

“Good afternoon, Isabelle,” he said, smiling falsely. She nodded.

“Afternoon.” Within a few minutes she called from register.

“Oswin?” He rolled his eyes and took out his wallet.

“It’s Oswald,” he said, waiting.

“I’ll get your name right when you get mine,” Isabelle said, her smile false and sickly sweet. Oswald squinted at her name tag, shocked to read ‘Isabella’. “That’ll be four seventy four.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me a riddle?” Oswald asked, suddenly wanting nothing more than to _not_ pay this woman. 

“What? Ed literally only does that for you,” Isabella said. “Cash or card?”

Oswald paid on his card just to spite her, happy to write ‘$0’ on the tip line. It was a relief coming in the next day to find Edward again. 

“I missed you yesterday,” Oswald said, pulling off his hat and pushing back his hair. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” Edward said. “I was just interviewing for a position at WayneTech.”

“Oh,” Oswald said, feeling his world begin crashing down around him. “That’s great.”

“It’s a great job,” Edward said, “I really hope I get it.”

“Good luck,” Oswald lied. 

“Anyways,” Edward said, beaming at him. “The rich men want it, the wise men know it, the poor all need it, and the kind men show it.”

“I… don’t know,” Oswald said, and Edward seemed to deflate. Oswald _always_ guessed. He just didn’t have the heart to at the moment, though it killed him to see Edward’s face fall.

“I’ll be right back,” Edward said, slowly retreating. When he returned, he put the coffee down on the counter and pushed it toward him. There was no lid, and in the foam Edward had created a perfect little heart. 

“Love,” Edward told him softly, “The answer is love.”

Oswald watched in stunned silence as he pressed the lid on and glanced over Oswald’s shoulder. “Hi, can I help who’s next?” 

He didn’t even remember to leave a bill on the counter as he walked away, stunned by the events that had unfolded. It had been fun flirting with Edward, yes, but to think that it might all be coming to an end? That simply could not happen. When the line was cleared and his coffee was gone, he put on a brave face and went back to the counter. Oswald had nothing to lose by asking, and he would not be a fool and wait until it was too late. Besides, fortune favored the bold. 

“Oswald?” Edward said, tilting his head as he approached the counter. “What’s up?”

“When is your shift over?” Oswald bluntly responded. He had a script in mind and this was how he was going to say it. 

“I—I’m done at seven,” Edward stuttered, running his hands down the front of his apron. 

“I like you,” Oswald told him. “I like you a lot, Edward. And I’d really like it if you’d let me take you out to dinner and get to know you better.” Edward’s jaw went slack, hands stilling in their positions on his chest and stomach. Oswald’s heart dropped.

“But if you were just being nice—I mean I understand you’re at work and you have to be nice to customers but Isabella mentioned that you only ever tell me riddles so I thought that maybe—You know what? I’m sorry. Can we just forget I said anything?” Oswald rambled, quickly backtracking. Fuck, those lines had sounded so much _smoother_ in his head. 

“No!” Edward said, startled, and Oswald wished that someone would wake him from this bad dream.

“Alright,” he said, beginning to turn away.

“No, wait!” Edward said, lunging over the counter and grabbing his arm. When Oswald stopped he immediately let go and retreated back behind the counter. “I said no because I don’t want to forget it. So no to that. But I meant yes. To dinner. I want you to take me to dinner, Oswald.”

“Oh,” Oswald said, his brain erupting into a cacophony of various thoughts. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think straight—

“That’s gay. _Great_. I’m gay. I’m gay and that’s great.” Well, nothing about this was _straight_. Oswald wanted to hit himself in the face but lacked anything in hand to do it with. 

“I’m bi,” Edward said, playing along with his slip of the tongue. “Be back _by_ seven and I’ll be waiting for you.”

Gosh, he was such a dork. 

He was _perfect_. 

***

Their first date was also perfect, and every date after that. They both saw each other whenever they could between their busy schedules. Not only that, but they were both moving up in the world. Edward had just interviewed at WayneTech, and Oswald had just betrayed Fish Mooney to Carmine Falcone and taken over her club. It had earned him a broken leg, but it was worth it to have Edward doting on him while he prepared the club for its official reopening under his name. 

Not that he told Edward how it had really happened. No, he’d lied through his teeth and there were news stories to back it up. Carmine had gotten a cleanup crew to take care of the massacre in the club, and he’d paid off the cops and the M.E. Oswald had driven Mooney’s car into a pole for the reporters to photograph. He’d interviewed with them, told him about how the dashboard had caved in and crushed his leg, how Fish had been indulging in her own booze. They’d believed the story, and so had Edward. No one was left to know that his injuries were because she’d nearly beaten him to death.

He’d gone to the hospital, all of his injuries documented for public consumption. He hated hospitals, but Edward had gone with him, had actually shown up at the ambulance before it even carted him away. Edward had been at the shop when he’d looked up at the television screen to see the crash on the news. Then he’d seen Oswald’s name, and that the accident was only a few blocks away. He told Oswald on the ride to the emergency room that he just tore off his apron and _ran_ , that he’d run faster than he ever had in his _life_. 

The EMTs had assured him that Oswald was going to be okay when he began sobbing, unable to stop until a doctor had confirmed that he was fine, his worst injury being the damage to his ankle. 

After the cast had been put on and Edward had called them a taxi, they’d gone back to Edward’s apartment. Oswald had been here before, but this was the first time he’d slept over. Edward had cried into his chest and confessed that he was so afraid he’d lost him when he saw his name on the headline. Oswald had shushed him and soothed him and maybe let it slip that he _loved him_ —

And then Edward had said it back. 

***

“Hey baby,” Oswald said, shaking out his umbrella as he entered the shop, “You almost ready?”

Edward leaned across the counter and they exchanged a brief kiss. Edward had been working at WayneTech on a trial basis the past few weekends, and this was their first real date since he’d gotten his cast off. His leg became a little sore when it was going to rain (which was more often than not in Gotham), but it had healed perfectly. No doubt thanks to Edward’s careful watch of him (i.e. scolding). 

“Yeah, I just need to clock out,” he said, punching into the computer, “Aaaand done.”

“Great, because I’m treating you tonight,” Oswald said, holding out an arm for him as Edward discarded his apron and came around the counter.

“Nowhere too fancy, I hope,” Edward said, “I’m not exactly dressed for five stars.”

“Not yet,” Oswald said, “But I have a surprise for you in the car.”

“Mr. Cobblepot,” Edward purred, stepping through the door as Oswald opened it for him and then opened the umbrella above their heads. “If you wanted to undress me, you only had to ask.”

“Maybe after dinner,” Oswald said, teeth looking sharper than usual as he grinned at Edward in the dim evening light. Perhaps dinner wasn’t the only thing he wanted to devour. The walk to Oswald’s was short, and Edward wasn’t shocked to find a limousine parked out front. Plenty of wealthy patrons frequented the place. However, when Oswald moved them closer to the car and pulled open the door, he could hardly comprehend it. 

“Oswald,” he said, eyes roving over the limo and the crisp suit he saw hanging on the inside of the opposite door. “This must have cost a fortune!”

“It did,” Oswald said, “But being in that accident was the best thing that ever happened to my bank account.”

“I’m sure it was,” Edward muttered, tracing fingers over the raindrops on the hood. 

“After you, my love,” Oswald said, gesturing to the interior. Edward leaned down and kissed him, finding himself being pressed back into the roof of the car as Oswald deepened it, one arm wrapping around his waist while the other steadfastly held the umbrella over his head. He wrapped his arms around Oswald’s shoulders and nearly swooned when Oswald pulled away to lay sucking kisses down the length of his neck. Edward pushed him away just far enough so that he could slip back into the car and lay across the seat, giving Oswald his best come-hither look as he reclined across the leather interior. It didn’t take long for him to follow Edward inside, throwing the umbrella in and slamming the door shut behind them. The engine started, whisking them away as Oswald decided that waiting until after dinner to undress Edward would be far too long. 

Neither of them were aware that a pair of eyes had been following them since Oswald first entered the shop. 

***

It went like this:

Oswald approached the counter, pressing a bouquet of flowers into Edward’s arms with a soft smile. Edward pressed a hand to his mouth and thanked him, a gorgeous flush across his cheeks as he leaned across the counter for a kiss. Oswald broke the kiss to tell him he loved him but stopped at the sound of glass shattering. 

Edward froze, flowers pressed to his chest. He looked exactly like a deer in the headlights with his big brown doe eyes. Oswald had jumped the counter and tackled him to the ground, heart lurching out of his chest as Edward screamed in pain. He covered Edward and shut his eyes as the glass cases broke next to them, shards flying. There was a squeal of tires and then it was over. As Oswald opened his eyes the right felt itchy, like something had gotten in it, but that was for another time. He’d heard Edward _scream_. 

He was alive, though: crying, chest heaving, trembling all over… but alive. 

“Oswald,” Edward said, “Oswald, oh my god, your eye—” He moved to touch it and Edward grabbed his hand, preventing him.

“No, don’t touch it. There’s just blood in your eye, let a doctor look at it,” Edward froze suddenly, head whipping around. “We have to call an ambulance, what if someone got hurt?”

Edward moved to sit up, wincing and grabbing his own arm. Oswald finally looked down to see a bloody patch spreading through the cloth.

“Oh dear,” Edward said, looking quite pale all of a sudden. “I’ve been shot.”

Oswald scrambled for his cell phone and called 911, quickly giving them the shop address and letting them know what had happened. There was already a commotion outside, people were hovering and gawking at the damage. In the meantime, Edward had tied a towel around his arm, moving around the corner of the counter to peer down the other side at the bake shop area. 

“Oh no, oh my god. _Kristen!_ ” Oswald hung up, quickly darting around the corner to see Edward kneeling on the floor, cradling the head of a woman with red hair on his lap. “ _Kristen_ , no, you can’t be dead. Please, oh my god, no. _No_. Nononono—”

Oswald squinted, which was definitely a poor choice. He could have sworn her name was Isabella—

But that didn’t matter as he knelt behind Edward and pulled him back into his chest, wrapping his arms around him. It was still his fault. He hadn’t seen the drivers but they had to be one of his rivals. They’d found out that he came here, and they’d found out when. If they kept following him, and he kept coming here, they’d eventually find out about Edward. And perhaps they already had. 

“It’s okay,” Oswald lied to him, “There’s an ambulance coming, you’re going to be okay.” Edward cried and finally abandoned his grip on the dead woman to clutch him instead, sobbing into his chest. Oswald soothed him and rubbed his back until the ambulance came, carting off the bodies in the shop and then taking Edward away. Oswald told the EMTs he was fine and stayed with Edward until he was seen to and patched up. Then Edward did the same for him as he found a doctor to look at his eye. They went back to Edward’s apartment and Oswald held him until he fell asleep. Rather than joining him in slumber, Oswald stared at the ceiling and knew that Edward easily could have been in Kristen’s place today. He knew that he was the cause. He’d brought destruction and heartbreak and violence into Edward’s perfect little world and nothing like this could ever, _ever_ be allowed to happen again.

So he left.

***

He left, and ignored Edward’s calls and texts. Instead he focused only on power, wealth, success. Oswald focused on the more more _more_ to make up for how much _less_ he felt since he’d abandoned Edward. But it was for his safety and protection, and Oswald knew he was doing the right thing. Despite how close his club was to the coffee shop, Edward never sought him out in person. That was how he knew he’d made the right choice. When the calls stopped a week ago, he knew Edward had accepted this was for the better.

In the meantime, he’d gone to an optometrist for the corneal scarring from the glass they’d pulled from his eye. Oswald had been fitted with a monocle he was thus far refusing to use, though the chain was a very nice touch to his suit as it dangled from the pocket of his vest. 

So it had been for three weeks, post-shooting. Oswald was secure on his throne, he was power hungry, he was going to topple Carmine Falcone—

And he might have, too, if it weren’t for the call he received. 

“Word on the street is you’re coming against Falcone. Well he just ain’t happy about that. Why don’t come on down the block and we’ll chat about it over coffee. Maybe if you’re quick, we won’t mess with your cute little piece of ass here.” He was laughing, quick and mean. “Well, we won’t mess with him _much_.”

“If you touch him I swear—” Oswald threatened, but he’d already hung up. Apparently, it was his turn to run. As he did, words his mother had once imparted to him echoed in his mind.

_‘Life only gives you one true love, Oswald. When you find it, run to it.’_

He was certainly running now. Yet when he burst through the door of the coffee shop, the scene was not the one he expected.

The bodies of patrons littered the tables, but five men in fine Italian suits had also collapsed to the floor in front of the counter. Edward was leaning up against the front of the register with a shotgun against his shoulder and a grave expression on his face. 

“Did you want your usual?” Edward asked, and he didn’t know if he felt like dissolving into hysterical tears, laughter, or screams. 

“How did you—”

“How did _we_.” A voice chimed in. Oswald nearly did scream this time, as the ghost of Kristen rounded the corner, her blonde hair—

Wait.

Holy shit. He’d been coming here for months and he’d never realized _there were two of them_. Fuck, he really did only have eyes for Edward. Eye. _Whatever_. 

“This is Gotham,” Edward said. “The owner bought guns for the store after what happened, not that a shotgun would have helped in the last instance. Though it certainly helped in this one.”

“I’m not waiting for the cops to show up,” Isabella said, stepping over a body and pulling her purse up on her shoulder. She turned back and spit on it, then looked up at Edward. “You know where I live, tell the cops they can get a statement from me at home.”

“Will do,” Edward said, utterly stone faced. A moment later she was out of the door.

“So,” Oswald began, feeling totally out of his element. He’d come here to save Edward and all he’d found was… _embarrassment_. “Are you two…?”

“No,” Edward said, turning and placing the shotgun on the counter. “Kristen and I used to date in undergrad, she and Isabella share an apartment.”

“So they’re… sisters?” Edward cocked his head, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“No? They met at Gotham U. I think it was a library science course, but I’d have to ask,” Edward explained.

“Oh,” Oswald said, somehow even more startled by this revelation. He suddenly felt the need to explain himself. “I mean, they look like twins.” Edward actually had the audacity to _laugh_ at that. 

“What? They’re completely different. I mean, I suppose they share a passing resemblance…” He looked off into the distance and then shook his head. “Anyways, I suppose you’ll be leaving now?”

Fuck, he felt like such an asshole. “Edward, I’m sorry, I’ve made you a target—”

“Then maybe you should keep me by your side,” he interrupted, pushing off the counter to stand at his full height. 

“You don’t know what I do—"

“You’re mafia,” Edward stated, crossing his arms and raising his brows. As he cocked one hip to the side the entirely of his body language made the same statement: _tell me I’m wrong_. 

“How did you know?” Oswald asked, realizing he had no chance of denying the accusation. 

“I read the news, and I like to put pieces together,” Edward said, shrugging. “I’m very good at it. They were all there. You bought a new car after Fish left. You started running her old place and named it after yourself. Everyone knew Fish was mafia too. I even have a good guess about who you betrayed her to. Was it Falcone?”

“There’s no way you could know any of that—”

“She found out, and I bet she beat the crap out of you when she did. Your injuries were inconsistent with a car accident. I have to say, I’m surprised she didn’t kill you,” Edward explained, and suddenly Oswald was so in love with him and so afraid of what was happening it felt like it was physically harder to breathe.

“She didn’t get a chance,” Oswald said, deciding to fill in the missing pieces. “Falcone raided the joint after I tipped him off. If I hadn’t been on the ground because of Fish, he would have gotten me too.”

“But he handed control over instead,” Edward speculated, “Why would he do that?”

“He had to, or my inside gal at the Gotham Gazette was going to publish everything I knew about Fish’s business, and then Falcone would lose the front anyways,” Oswald said. “Better to put the rat you know in charge and still make money.” 

“That’s clever,” Edward said, and maybe Oswald was being overly hopeful, but he sounded _impressed_. “That’s the part I couldn’t guess.”

“So you knew all this time, but you dated me anyways,” Oswald said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe Edward had been playing him all along, he sure seemed to know an _awful_ lot. 

“I meant it when I told you I love you,” Edward said, voice soft. “Did you?”

“Of _course_ I did,” Oswald whispered, tears stinging his eyes. 

“Then you know we should be together,” Edward said, lip trembling with suppressed emotion. His mother’s words were still at the forefront of his mind as he swept Edward up into a desperate kiss, clutching at him and wondering why he’d been so foolish as to ever let go. When he pulled away, he was still utterly baffled by the enigma before him… and yet he also knew him as well as he knew himself.

“What am I going to do with you?” Oswald sighed, wrapping his arms around Edward’s waist.

“Well, WayneTech turned me down,” Edward said, voice gone dark in tone. Oswald wondered what the story was _there_. “This place is now the site of two shootings, and I can imagine business will slow down even more. So, all things considered, I think I’m in the market for another job.”

“They’re looking for exotic dancers at Pandora’s…” Edward slapped his bicep, then wound his arms around Oswald’s shoulders once more. 

“I’m flattered you think I could swing that… but no, thank you.”

“Hmm. I’ve also heard there’s this mob boss who’s _madly_ in love with you. You might want to try there,” Oswald suggested, hands slipping lower on Edward’s back.

“You think he’ll give me special favors?” Edward asked, leaning in until the breath of his words could be felt against Oswald’s lips. His eyes were half lidded, and he bit his lip as Oswald slid his hand down into the pockets of his slacks. 

“For as long as you want, whenever you want,” Oswald promised, kneading the pert flesh beneath his palms. Edward’s eyes fluttered, and when they opened again Oswald found a familiar glimmer in their warmth brown depths. 

“I want you now,” Edward said, pulling him into a kiss that lasted until the sound of police sirens blared in the distance. 

“We should go,” Edward whispered, reluctantly pulling away. 

“But before we do,” Oswald began, “I want you to know that I trust you, and I’ll never make the mistake of leaving your side again.” Edward’s lip wobbled dangerously as he nodded.

“I would do anything for you, Oswald,” Edward said, tears filling his eyes. “You can always count on me.”

Oswald smiled and took his hand, “Let’s get out of here. Something tells me I’m going to rule this city in no time with you by my side.”

 


End file.
